


It's halftime. Are you ready to go?

by momentofclarity



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Boners, Banter, Blushing, Body Hair, Body Worship, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Pining, Prostate Orgasm, Rimming, Smut, Sweat, Teasing, jockstrap, mostly just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 14:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12389877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentofclarity/pseuds/momentofclarity
Summary: Reason #12 - Because it's halftime.Harry would like to think that he doesn’t know how he got himself into this. Only… he’d be lying. Because he knows exactly how he got himself into this. Oh man, does he know, and it’s all because of a certain Louis Tomlinson.Alternatively - football is gay and Harry is trying to cope.





	It's halftime. Are you ready to go?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm SWEATING.
> 
> Thank you to the best beta in the world, [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/). You're the best. Always. 
> 
> Thank you [Lauren](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com/) for helping me figure out how to make a frickin moodboard! ❤
> 
> The biggest thank you to you both for making this challenge so utterly enjoyable and fun to be part of! Best mods ever ❤❤❤
> 
> Thanks to my friends who've helped and encouraged me. Love you. 
> 
> This is dirty. How fun!

Harry would like to think that he doesn’t know how he got himself into this. Would like to say it’s complete happenstance that he nowadays spends every Thursday night at the pub watching the game with the lads, that he—in the past three months—has been not to one, not two, but _three_ football matches and that he is now, apparently, very passionate about which players Man U should invest in. He would like to say it’s an interest that has developed over time and that he’s enjoying his new hobby to the fullest. Only… he’d be lying. Because he knows _exactly_ how he got himself into this. _Oh man_ , does he know, and it’s all because of a certain Louis Tomlinson.

Three months ago Harry started his new job at Westfield Electronics. He’d always been good in sales, always known how to appease the middle-aged parents with whiny teenage kids, how to make small talk with the grandpa types and how to flirt just the right amount with the ones agreeable to it. It suited him and even though he wasn’t overly passionate about electronics, he was eager to start his new job. On his second day his manager took him down to the warehouse to introduce him to the ‘warehouse lads’ and that’s when his whole world had been smashed into a gooey mess like a ripe strawberry crushed under someone’s foot. Still sweet but not very tempting.

The thing is, the warehouse manager happens to be the single most attractive bloke Harry has ever seen. Louis Tomlinson has a bright smile, a cheeky attitude, and eyes so blue Harry had nearly lost the capability to speak as they shook hands. Over the next week or so, Harry found out first hand that Louis was mighty popular amongst their co-workers and he quickly understood why. Louis wasn’t only very _very_ fit with sharp cheek bones, a gorgeous smile and the tightest curviest thing of a body Harry had ever seen, he was also a great leader and a thoughtful friend. He was considerate, funny, and _warm_ in a way that had Harry’s stomach flutter each time he so much as thought of him.

It was also during the first week or so that Harry caught up on Louis’ obvious love for football. The warehouse lads did running bets every week (the maximum limit was twenty pounds so it was mostly just for the sake of betting) and Louis could easily spend his whole lunch break enthusiastically discussing the previous night’s game and Harry just… He wanted in. As he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Louis’ wildly gesticulating hands or the excited sparkle in his eyes, Harry wanted to share his enthusiasm, wanted to be able to take part of the quick banter during lunch break, so he… might have exaggerated his love for football. Just a little bit.

It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the sport, because he sure did. Watched when the national team had an important match and always enjoyed the idea of sweaty men hitting the showers together after a game — that sort of thing. It’s just… It escalated pretty quickly after his first stumbling mumbling of, “Umm… yeah, they should’ve… um totally worked on their defense,” accompanied by burning cheeks. After that he went home and googled every variation of ‘how to pretend you know anything about football’ he could come up with, resulting in him eventually actually knowing quite a lot about football.

He also ended up with a massive, out-of-this-world, blown-way-out-of-reasonable-proportions crush on Louis Tomlinson. Whenever Harry thinks about him, his stomach drops to the floor in a ridiculous swoop before swinging back and shooting up through the roof. Louis makes him break out in embarrassingly ecstatic laughter, makes his cheeks burn when he so much as looks at him, and makes his chest swell with pride when Louis praises his football commentary. It’s all a bit… overwhelming, and he wishes sometimes that he could just take it all back. Could just shrug his shoulders and say “Nah, never been much of a sports person” and spend his days admiring Louis’ delicate wrists and mouth-watering bum from afar instead of having to deal with this gorgeous person up close, seeing as they’re _friends_ now. He’s one of the lads, and as much as he enjoys the company his new co-workers, he’s finding it a bit tricky to hide his obvious infatuation while they’re eating chips from the same basket and hanging onto each other’s shoulders as they’re cheering for _The Team._

It also wouldn’t be as completely devastating if it wasn’t for the fact that Louis at least semi-regularly drops comments like “Come the fuck on, I’ll suck you  _so good_ if you score” or “ _God,_ I’d let Bailly shag me to the moon and back” as if it’s part of regular football lingo. The first time it happened, Harry nearly choked on his own tongue, coughing up beer all over his front as he tried to fucking _breathe._

So the thing is — Louis isn’t just utterly charming, wears lovely, sportsy, colour-coordinated outfits or happens to have the greatest arse known to man, he’s also amazingly, fantastically, brilliantly _gay_ and Harry thinks he can’t really be blamed for the way Louis makes his heart run wild.

And right now Harry’s heart is basically throwing a party in his chest cave, as if it can’t make up its mind about whether it wants to do a quick cha cha or drop the fucking bass. The numbers over the lift door shift from 1 to 2 to 3 and Harry takes a deep breath, trying to calm down before he needs to get off on the sixth floor. He’s on his way to Louis’ flat to watch the game, and even though this isn’t something unusual in and of itself, it is something quite extraordinary today. Because today is the first time he and Louis are going to hang out _on their own._

Obviously they have shared a couple of lunch breaks just the two of them and they’ve taken a bus ride together after work, but this is different because now it will be _just the two of them_. No gossiping co-workers, boisterous mates, or strangers on a bus to hide behind as his palms sweat and his breath hitches in his throat. That together with the fact that Louis seems to have exclusively invited him makes all sorts of feelings jitter through Harry’s veins. When he’d asked if the other lads were coming, Louis had just shrugged and given him the most annoyingly gorgeous smirk ever. “Nah, it’s just you and me.”

So. Harry really tries his best to calm down as he leaves the lift and heads towards Louis’ door. Watching the game with a good mate. That’s all it is. Also, it’s only three in the afternoon on a Sunday, so it shouldn’t even be _possible_ to be this nervous about something happening at such a perfectly innocent and boring hour.

Of course, that only makes sense until you see Louis Tomlinson looking particularly soft and sexy as he opens the door.

“Hey mate, how’s it going?” Louis asks, bright easy smile on his face as he pulls Harry into a brief one-armed hug.

“I’m good, looking forward to the game,” Harry answers lamely and tries not to stare at Louis’ thighs. Louis’ wearing white socks, black rolled-up track suit bottoms, and a white t-shirt with a red print on it and while such an outfit would look like his regular comfy weekend outfit on Harry, it looks so _fucking good_ on Louis. _Smart_ even. And yeah, the way the black fabric clings to his thick thighs doesn’t hurt either. Oh god. How is he supposed to make it through this afternoon?

“You want beer, right?” Louis asks and heads into the kitchen.

Harry pointedly stares at the back of Louis’ head instead of his bum because he’d like it very much if he could keep the boners to a minimum.

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” he says and heads it into the living room where Louis has set up with bowls of crisps and popcorn.

Louis plops down on the other end of the sofa and hands him a beer, still smiling brightly as if he’s really excited about the game. “There you go.”

They watch the pre-game show while they talk a bit about work and the prospect of starting up a football team with the lads from the warehouse. Harry gets really nervous about the concept, because as much as he would _love_ to see Louis running around sweating in tiny little football shorts, he’s really lacking in the football playing department and he figures that's not something he could just read about on Wikipedia.

“It’d be swell, like… you, me, and Vic could _totally_ take down Will and the rest, you know?” Louis says and beams prettily, eyes crinkling up at the corners, and his nose sitting there perfectly adorable in the middle of his face. Ungh.

“Umm…” Harry figures he should give honesty a shot here or he might bitterly regret it. “Honestly, with my knowledge and understanding of the football game, I feel like I should be a lot better at football than I actually am.”

“Oh, you’re saying those long legs of yours can’t keep up with the ball?” Louis says, eyebrow raised teasingly.

Harry’s cheeks heat up slightly at that, secretly delighted by Louis’ teasing. “Yeah, unfortunately. I make a great cheerleader though,” he says with a wink and Louis cackles.

“Yeah I bet.”

A few minutes into the game Harry’s phone buzzes with a text and Harry slowly pulls it out of his pocket, still keeping an eye on the game and listening to Louis’ comments. It’s a text from his best friend Niall and while he _should_ know better, he distractedly opens it. The second he reads the words he regrets it though.

**managed to score yet? ;)**

His face immediately flames up and he quickly locks the screen. _Fucking Niall._

The thing is – obviously Harry had to talk to _someone_ about the absolute enigma that is Louis Tomlinson, so Niall had spent the past three months hearing all about the way Louis is basically the sun and everyone else (especially Harry) are just planets orbiting him, doing their best to catch a few of his glorious sunbeams. Niall _might’ve_ also been forced to listen to a few drunken rambles about Louis’ spectacular thighs and how Harry would like… happily be crushed between them.

So Niall considers himself invested; thinks he has the right to know certain things, thinks he needs to _push_ Harry into action or “I’m going to spend the rest of my life watching you thirst after this bloke.” And even though he might technically be right, Harry still thinks it’s none of his business.

His phone buzzes again. Harry ignores it and tries to cover up the sound by an inconspicuous cough, but of course that’s what catches Louis’ attention and he lifts a curious eyebrow at Harry.

“You going to get that?” he asks and it’s obvious that he’s caught onto something being off. Maybe it’s the most likely alarming shade of red on Harry’s face. Maybe.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, just my mate.”

Louis keeps looking at him and when Harry throws him a quick glance he sees a devious smirk curling over those lovely lips. _Oh_ _f_ _uck._

“I think you should, could be urgent.”

Staring at the TV, Harry tries to play it cool, like he really couldn’t care less, as he unlocks the screen with a swipe of his thumb.

**have ya penetrated the defense? :P  
has he let you dribble the ball?!!!**

_Oh god_ , he’s going to kill Niall. Usually this kind of childish innuendo would have him snorting and rolling his eyes, but Louis is _right there_ and Niall _knows this,_ knows how nervous he was about coming here today and—

A small hand digs into his side, making him squawk out loud as he fumbles not to drop his phone. No. Nononono _no._ With the way Louis’ eyes _gleam_ at him, he instantly knows where this is heading and he will. not. let it. No. Louis does it again, sharp fingers digging into his side as his other hand reaches for Harry’s phone and as Harry manages to keep it out of his reach once more, sweat breaks out under Harry’s armpits.

“Stop it!” he cries and tries to get away from Louis.

“What’s going on? Why are you acting all weird?” Louis asks and grins at him, arms flying out for another dig and reach.

“I’m not acting all weird, stop it! We’re watching the game!” Harry says, and to make a point he nods towards the TV.

That was obviously a grave mistake because that’s when Louis’ next attempt succeeds.

He squeals in victory, holding Harry’s phone above his head, and Harry’s blood turns ice cold. The next second he launches himself over the sofa and onto Louis who quickly lies back and keeps the phone out of Harry’s reach. Harry’s nearly panicking by now and Louis squirms under him as he tries to get away. And god fucking _dammit_ but Harry is about two seconds from _climbing_ Louis to get hold of his phone. He’s probably sweating buckets by now because there are things on there that should _not_ be seen by the curious eyes of Louis Tomlinson.

It’s only that two seconds later Louis successfully manages to get out from under him, his fingers digging into Harry’s ribs as he bucks his hips and rolls over to stand up and Harry grabs hold of the only thing that he can reach to stop Louis. His fingers curl around black stretchy fabric and that’s when Harry’s world comes to a stop.

It all happens so fast but Harry’s eyes seem unable to even _blink,_ so it feels like the moment stretches on forever.

One second he’s doing his best to prevent Louis from looking through his phone and the next all he sees is two perfectly shaped, golden tan arse cheeks and for a few moments all he does is _stare_. The hours he’s spent fantasizing about that arse, the amount of times he’s come at the thought of it _suffocating him_ and now it’s right _there_. Big, plump, and enhanced even more so by thick white straps running along the bottom of each cheek. What the _fuck._

Louis squeaks loudly and scrambles away from him, his round arse cheeks _bouncing_ as he gets away from the sofa and Harry isn’t sure this is even real life anymore. Once Louis has managed to pull his trousers back up though, Harry starts to notice the way his heart is beating up into his throat and how his face is positively _burning_ , from the tips of his ears all the way down his chest, so hot it’s almost painful. And that’s _before_ he feels his cock throbbing between his thighs, apparently able to fill up to complete hardness in a matter of seconds if motivated enough.

He’d almost be impressed if he wasn’t busy being completely mortified.

“Oh god, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” he rushes out, scrambling back on the sofa to put some more space between them. He meets Louis’ gaze and the rush of blood in his ears is almost deafening as he’s met with a small smirk and glimmering blue eyes.

“Getting handsy there, are we Dimples?” Louis says and if it wasn’t for the rosy hue of his cheeks and the sweat curling the hair at his temples, Harry would think Louis was completely unaffected by the life altering events of the past few moments.

Harry chokes on his words, his head simply not capable of processing all the information that’s bombarding him. He puts his face in his hands to escape the embarrassment. “I’m sorry that— I didn’t mean—that was… fuck, I’m _so_ sorry.”

He looks up at Louis through his fingers and Louis laughs at him as he sits down on the sofa again, casually throwing Harry’s phone over to him without even looking at it.

“That’s alright, you seemed to quite enjoy it,” Louis says and focuses back on the game as if it’s nothing. As if _his_ mind isn’t short-circuiting and doing its best to form any sort of coherent thought at all, the way Harry’s is.

Harry doesn’t even know what to say and he’s not sure he could possibly blush more than he already is, so he goes for a dismissive snort that he assumes fools no one. His heart doesn’t seem to plan on slowing down anytime soon and he sinks into the sofa again, trying to catch his breath. He reaches for his beer and takes a big gulp, the lukewarm liquid soothing his dry throat somewhat. Right when he thinks he’s backed away from the brink of an actual heart attack, flashes of white straps running underneath the mound of Louis’ arse cheeks shoot through his head and he’s back to nearly hyperventilating. Was that a fucking _jockstrap?_ Who wears a jockstrap while watching the game with a mate? Why on _earth_ did Louis have to wear basically _nothing_ on the day Harry accidentally pulls his trousers down? Harry can’t even decide on whether he’s cursed or blessed by what just happened. He’s slightly overwhelmed… to put it lightly.

He can feel Louis sitting there, just a few feet away, feet now propped up on the coffee table. Harry can’t help the way his gaze lingers on Louis as he watches him from the corner of his eye. God, he’s so perfect and now Harry has potentially fucked up every chance of them having any sort of normal relationship. And Louis’ arse cheeks have most definitely made it impossible for Harry to ever see Louis in any sort of platonic way ever. He’s doomed to spend the rest of his years pining after this spectacular man.

For a few minutes he contemplates just leaving, the silence that has fallen between them making his skin itch. The knowledge that Louis most probably saw his cock tenting the soft fabric of his jogging trousers, probably knows how bad Harry has it for him, how he’s basically drooling at the thought of getting his hands on that bum and—

“So… did you like them?” Louis interrupts his train of thought and Harry looks over to where Louis is still casually watching the game.

“Wh-what?” he croaks out, throat suddenly parched again.

“I’m wearing my lucky underwear, for the game you know…” Louis says and throws him a quick glance before looking back at the TV. “Did you like them?”

Is Louis taking a piss? Is he _mocking_ him? Or is he… does he actually want to know if Harry liked his _jockstrap_?

“Um… I…” he stutters and then Louis looks over at him again, eyes a mix of curious and serious, like he’s gauging Harry’s reaction.

“Did you?”

It hangs there in the air and Harry feels something shift between them, while something thick and hot settles in the pit of his stomach. The atmosphere is charged as protons, neutrons, and electrons rearrange themselves, changing the rules to make the impossible seem possible.

“Yeah,” he breathes out eventually. “I did.”

A look of relief flitters over Louis’ face for a second before he turns back to the TV. However, it doesn’t take long for him to start talking again. “Have a thing for my bum then?” he asks and now Harry has definitely entered an alternative dimension.

Even with his cheeks burning and his heart racing, Harry decides to see where this is heading, to see what Louis means by all these questions. Because there’s something careful blooming in his chest. Arousal blends together with something curious, something that’s absolutely desperate to know if this will lead to something _more._

“It’s the greatest arse I’ve ever seen,” he settles on, voice coming out rough as he stares stubbornly in front of him, the TV screen appearing as nothing but a green blur as all his focus is on Louis.

“Yeah? You’ve thought about it? Maybe fantasized a bit even?”

And that’s… god, it’s so embarrassing the way his cheeks heat up again, the way he’s so painfully obvious about the answer to that statement. “Maybe,” he croaks out.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Louis tilting his head slightly, as if he’s contemplating his next move. “What did you fantasize about then?”

Harry groans and throws his head back against the sofa, his cheeks throbbing with heat by now, sweat breaking out at the nape of his neck as his cock perks up again, quickly working its way back to full hardness. Oh god. Harry does his best not to press a hand down over his throbbing cock. “ _Louis_ ,” he whines out because as turned on as he is by all this, he also has no idea how to utter the words in his mind. _I want to touch you, want you to crush me with your thighs, want you to sit on my face as you come._ Yeah, _fuck_.

“Come on, Hazza,” Louis urges him on carefully and this time his voice comes out breathy and high.

“God, just want you, anything, your arse is so perfect, have dreamt about it for _months,_ ” Harry says and pushes his whole body into the backrest, feeling like he needs to restrain himself from exploding into a thousand tiny particles.

“Yeah? You want to have a go at it? Want to feel me up a bit? That it?” Jesus Fucking Christ, even with the way his voice wavers slightly he sounds so casual about it. Like talking about ‘having a go’ at your mate’s arse is a normal, casual thing.

For some reason it makes Harry’s blood boil even hotter, like he’s losing control over nothing even though to him Louis is anything but.

“Please Lou…” he whimpers out pathetically. “Don’t—don’t tease _._ ”

“I’m not teasing, I’m just asking,” Louis says and Harry looks over at him to throw him a glare. _You know exactly what you’re doing._ A mischievous glint flickers in Louis’ eyes and Harry wants to kiss him so badly it nearly makes him whine.

Louis looks intently back at the TV, licking his lips as a small smirk curls over his pink lips and then he just… stops paying attention to anything but the game. Harry sags into the sofa at the change, like Louis’ attention surged him with energy and then Louis pulled the plug without a thought. His cock still strains against his jogging trousers, tenting the grey fabric obscenely and he doesn’t know how Louis can simply just ignore it. Not because he’s irresistible in any sort of way, but whichever way you look at it, Louis just made his mate tent his trousers and left him squirming on the sofa. That’s not something Harry would be able to ignore, that’s for sure.

Confused as ever, he takes a deep breath and contemplates getting another beer from the fridge as the game clock ticks closer to halftime. In a distant sort of way he takes notice of the score even though he has no idea how that score came to be in the first place. Making a promise to himself to try and focus a bit on the game in second half, he’s just about to get up and head for the fridge when Louis moves. The referee blows the whistle, signaling the halftime break, and Louis throws him a look that somehow very clearly conveys the message of _stay there._

Harry is just about to ask “What?” when Louis gets up on his knees on the sofa and turns around so that his back is facing Harry. When he bends over, elbows supporting him on the armrest as he pushes his arse back, Harry is halfway convinced he’s actually dreaming, head dizzy with how all the blood rushes down to pulse between his thighs. _What the fuck is even happening?_

Louis arches his back and reaches behind himself to pull his trousers down to mid-thigh. “Have at it then,” he says, as if he’s simply indulging Harry.

Harry barely hears him though, because Louis’ arse is right in front of him, merely inches away and breathing is a difficult fucking concept. “Eeeeh,” he lets out, so confused and so turned on he’s stupid with it.

Louis looks back at him over his shoulder, eyes yet again checking for Harry’s reaction. Harry imagines he looks like all his dreams just came true.

Because, honestly, they have.

“Thought you said you wanted to,” Louis says before his head falls forwards and he moves his hips slightly, his arse bouncing as if Harry needed any more encouragement, as if the sight of that arse moving in front of him isn’t all Harry has ever wanted.

He quickly sits up on his knees, hands hovering over Louis’ body because he doesn’t even know where to start, what to do, what Louis _wants._ “God, I’m… what—what do you want?” he stammers out and his cheeks heat with embarrassment yet again.

“You’re the one with the fantasies, do whatever you want,” Louis says and Harry’s eyes burn with how overwhelmed he is. This is like a fucking porno coming to life and he wants so badly to not fuck up, to make Louis want him back, to make Louis feel so good he’ll let him touch again and again.

Taking a deep breath, Harry gently grabs the hem of Louis’ t-shirt, pulling it up over his back a bit so he can properly look at what’s in front of him. He confirms, indeed, Louis’ ‘lucky underwear’ is a jockstrap. A thick white strap runs across his lower back as two slightly thinner straps curve around the bottom of his arse cheeks. The sight is dizzyingly hot; almost more so than if he were completely nude, since the straps frame his arse in a way that makes it seem even more plump and heavy. Harry’s hands slide slowly over Louis’ lower back, thumbs caressing over the top strap as he concentrates on stopping the trembling of his fingers.

When covered in trousers, Louis’ arse is magnificent, absolutely perfect, the way the fabric always hugs his behind deliciously as he moves, but like this, all bare for Harry’s hungry eyes to devour – he’s absolutely spectacular. Harry’s hands slide further down and he gasps when they cover the soft silky skin of Louis’ arse cheeks, squeezing slightly just to appreciate the thickness of them and he can feel himself soaking through his pants as precome blurts out. Louis groans, which encourages Harry to continue his groping, thumbs caressing along his crack but not yet pulling him apart.

Louis’ arse cheeks are soft like velvet, and along the crack there’s a fuzzy trail of dark hair, hiding what’s just beneath and Harry’s mouth waters at the sight. He wants to pull Louis apart to see and touch him where he’s the hottest. He pushes his thumbs closer to the crack carefully, his heart rabbiting in his chest.

“Jesus _fuck_ , just get on with it,” Louis breathes; the words demanding but it sounds more like begging to Harry’s ears.

So he does.

He lets his thumbs caress all the way from the bottom of his cheeks to where the flesh is thickest and Louis trembles beneath him.

“God _Lou_ ,” Harry says, voice breaking as he pulls Louis’ arse cheeks apart and sees what he’s dreamt of so many nights. Louis’ rim is dusty pink, beautifully framed by sparse curls of hair; the sight so fucking erotic Harry’s mouth hangs open as he breathes heavily.

Louis clenches his muscles against Harry’s fingers as he moans out, “Just please… _do_ something.”

With all the saliva collecting in his mouth Harry can’t help the image of Louis’ wet glistening hole from flashing through his mind, so he leans forward to place his mouth over Louis’ rim. He pushes his tongue eagerly out of his mouth to taste and _fuck_ if it isn’t the best thing he’s ever felt. Louis smells like deep musk and fresh sweat and the scent together with the salty taste of him makes Harry’s stomach curl with heat, his own cock sliding against the slickness in his pants as more precome blurts out. Fuck. He pulls back to just _look_ , to see what his mouth has done to Louis and his first thought is _I want you soaking wet,_ so he gathers more saliva on his tongue and spits right above Louis’ hole, watching as the liquid drips down the crack.

“Did you just _spit_ on me?!” Louis squeaks and throws an incredulous look over his shoulder. His pupils are blown so wide it’s difficult for Harry to receive the message.

“Sorry,” Harry says as he catches the spit with his thumb, rubbing it in circles over Louis’ rim, watching his hole flutter in the hottest way imaginable. “You’re just… you’ve got the prettiest bum I’ve ever seen.”

Louis’ head falls down between his arms on the armrest again, a sound that is halfway laugh, halfway groan escaping his lips. “God, you’re embarrassing,” he says as he pushes his arse further into Harry’s hands.

After that Harry can’t resist any longer and bows down to taste Louis with his tongue again, alternating between soft broad strokes and small pointed circles around his rim. They’re both breathing heavily and Harry loses himself in the sounds and feeling of it. Louis feels even more amazing than Harry ever could’ve imagined, flesh thick and luscious in his hands and he’s hot and wet beneath Harry’s mouth, small whimpers escaping his lips as Harry licks into him. Harry can feel himself tear up at how good it feels, how right it feels to be this close and pleasure Louis like this.

Suddenly Louis takes a deep breath, his whole body shifting with it, and then there’s a hand on Harry’s forehead, pushing him away. Harry sits back slightly, trying to understand what caused Louis’ actions, and his mind blanks with confusion as Louis pulls his trousers up and sinks back into the sofa again. His eyes flicker all over Louis as he tries to understand what just happened.

“Wha-what, umm… is everything alright?” he asks, his lips still throbbing from rubbing against Louis.

Louis raises an eyebrow, a smug smile on his lips as he nods towards the TV. “You’re here to watch the game, right?”

Harry stares at him, then at the TV, and then back at Louis again. The second half is starting up and Harry Styles thinks he might pass out.

-

Fifteen or so minutes into the second half Harry is still thrumming. His skin is sensitive to touch, sweat curls the hair at the nape of his neck and his fingers tremble. It takes a lot of will to not just blatantly stare at Louis, to not ask, “Okay, but what now?”

He wonders if Louis is just adamant about watching the game and if he’ll turn his attention back to Harry after it’s done, if he’ll let Harry touch him again, or if Harry really had some sort of fever dream during halftime. Who even knows. Except. When he dares to throw a glance over at Louis, he sees the ways his fist is curled up against the sofa cushion, the way he keeps licking his lips and when his foot slides down to the floor from the coffee table, Harry sees the way he’s cock is bulging in his trousers. God, he’d love to get his hands on that as well, to taste and tease and… ungh, he needs to calm down if he’s going to make it till the end of the game.

The question is, is Louis _really_ more interested in football than getting off or is he just the most self-restrained person on earth, able to hold back just to make Harry all the more desperate? Harry hopes it’s the last option.

He’s lost in thought when something happens on the TV — the referee is pausing the game and there’s some sort of disruption. Harry doesn’t pay enough attention to know what happened, all he knows is that the disruption seems to set Louis into motion.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Louis grumbles and then suddenly he’s right there in Harry’s space, quickly scuffling over the sofa and throwing a leg over Harry’s lap, straddling him. Harry’s breath catches in his throat and he leans his head back to be able to see Louis properly this up close.

Louis looks at him with big purposeful eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his lips again. “Do you have any _idea_ how good you look? How am I supposed to be able to watch the game with you all… _here_?”

Harry carefully places his hands at Louis’ hips, a slight tremble in his fingers. “You-you never seemed t-to have that problem before?” he stutters as he watches the way Louis’ eyelashes throw shadows over his gorgeous face.

He’s so beautiful Harry’s heart nearly bursts.

“Yeah, _right_ ,” Louis says and rolls his eyes, his hands coming up to cradle Harry’s head, fingers scratching behind Harry’s ears; goosebumps erupt all the way down Harry’s neck.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry asks then, heart in his throat, because he’s wanted to kiss him ever since Louis opened the door. Since well before then to be honest, and having Louis in his lap seems like a pretty good indicator he’ll get a yes.

Louis doesn’t answer, just leans down and catches Harry’s lips with his. His lips are soft and wet, thin against Harry’s swollen ones, and they feel like paradise. The simple press of lips has want surging through Harry with great intensity, only it’s not the same kind of want that he felt before. The electric, white-hot heat he felt pooling in his belly is still there simmering just under the surface, but this want is his heart thundering against his rib cage. It’s his hands sliding up Louis’ back simply because he wants him closer, wants to wrap him up in his arms and feel every breath rise and fall from his lungs. He carefully pushes forward, wanting to taste more of Louis’ mouth and Louis parts his lips, their tongues sliding against each other slowly.

Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, pulling him even closer. They kiss like that, pressed together and sharing breaths until Louis’ tongue curls in a way that has the electric current surging up inside of Harry, making him groan with arousal, as if he can’t contain the feeling, needs to get it out because he might fall apart if he doesn’t.

The kisses grow more purposeful then, Louis’ teeth pulling at Harry’s bottom lip and Harry insistently pressing his tongue against Louis’.

“God, you’re so fit, I want you so bad,” Louis pants out when they part for air.

“You do? ’Cause I… I want you, so much,” Harry admits as his hands slide down to Louis’ bum, grabbing hold of it.

Louis kisses him again before pushing at Harry’s chest, making him lie down on the sofa as Louis hovers above him. Nimble fingers caress the skin where Harry’s t-shirt has ridden up on his stomach and Harry shudders at the skin on skin contact. Louis shifts his weight so his bum is planted on Harry’s thighs, as he starts pulling Harry’s t-shirt up over his chest. “So gorgeous,” he mumbles and starts kissing over Harry’s belly, teeth nibbling at the skin before his tongue darts out to smooth over the bite. He leaves a trail of saliva cooling on Harry’s skin as he moves up over his chest, pausing as he reaches Harry’s left nipple.

“You drive me fucking insane with these things,” he says, nudging the already hard nub with his nose. “Can almost always see them through your shirts, it’s so fucking distracting at work.”

Harry’s cock jumps at those words, at the thought of Louis looking him, getting distracted by his body. Sharp teeth dig into his nipple and another bout of goosebumps break out over his skin. “Oh god,” he moans and drags his fingers through Louis’ short hair.

“ _All of you_ is so bloody distracting,” Louis says and licks at his nipple, teasing the bud with the tip of his tongue. Sparks of heat shoots over Harry’s chest, right down to his groin. He moans, sounding breathless and out of it already. As Louis’ mouth and hands work over his torso, Harry tries to clear his head of the fog threatening to overtake it. It would be so easy to let himself go into the pleasure and arousal, but he fears it would be over all too quickly then. He wants to take the time to appreciate everything that’s happening; he’s got the man of his dreams right here, sucking bruises into his skin as he tells him how he’s got the loveliest tits. And he feels Louis’ hard cock slide against his inner thigh in slow thrusts and all he wants is to stay right here, to feel like this, to experience this, in a never ending loop always.

Louis is pushing at his t-shirt again, obviously wanting the garment off him, so Harry sits up long enough for Louis to pull it over his head. He wants to do the same thing with Louis’ t-shirt but then his arms are pinned above his head as Louis leans over him again. Louis noses up the side of his ribcage, tickling him slightly but Harry braces himself, not willing to tell Louis to stop touching him.

“Your skin is so gorgeous, I just wanna bite you all over,” Louis says and throws him a cheeky grin. He looks so fucking good like this, cheeks rosy, eyes glazed with want and looking up at him through long eye lashes, mouth attached to Harry’s skin.

“Ungh, think I’d let you do anything right now,” Harry grunts out because it’s the truth. He cannot fathom not wanting anything Louis is willing to offer.

Louis throws him another glance then, looking like he’s preparing his next move, and then he’s sliding up another few inches on Harry’s body, nose pressing into his exposed armpit.

Harry goes rigid at the sensation; the skin so sensitive and all he can think is _god what If I stink, oh fuck._ But the thing is, Louis doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He keeps nosing into the dewy hair and breathing him in. “You smell so good, it makes me so hard… smell like sex.”

Then he darts his tongue out and licks at the sensitive skin and Harry can’t help another whine from escaping. He feels woozy with how turned on his is, how hot Louis makes him, every touch and every word vibrating through him.

“I want to… want to touch you,” Harry says because Louis is still holding him down and he can feel himself growing desperate to touch the other man.

“How about we head into the bedroom?” Louis asks, giving him a final peck in his armpit before looking down at Harry and waiting for his answer.

“Yeah…yeah,” he answers, feeling like he’s just run a marathon even though they’ve barely even done anything yet.

Louis gets up from the sofa and Harry’s lap, waiting until Harry has gotten up on unsteady feet before he starts heading towards the bedroom in quick determined strides. When Harry catches up to him, he’s standing by the foot of the bed, his t-shirt already on the floor and Harry lets out a small, hopefully not very audible, whimper. He wants to rub his hands all over all that newly exposed skin. Wants to taste and feel and smell and whisper into the tattoo-littered golden skin.

He makes his way to stand before Louis, eyes wandering over Louis’ bare chest. His fingers reach up to caress across Louis’ collarbones, allowing himself a moment of gentleness, to try and just grasp the fact that he’s in Louis bedroom, with Louis’ hands holding on to the softness at his hips. But then Louis pulls him down by the neck for a kiss and it brings Harry’s blood to a boil. It’s wet and hot and perfect and Harry eagerly pushes into it, his hands coming up to slide into Louis’ hair, grasping at the short strands.

“Wanna suck you,” Louis breathes against his lips and Harry’s cock pulses at the sight of him so close, his lips wet and shiny and asking to suck him. Harry nods shakily, not really capable of forming words.

Louis kisses him again before he leans down and starts trailing kisses down Harry’s chest. His fingers dig into Harry’s skin, pulling and _kneading_ at him, like he truly can’t get enough of him and it makes Harry tingle with heat. Louis stops to nibble at each nipple and then lets his thumbs rub over them as he continues down Harry’s stomach. Harry is just sort of… standing there, trying not to combust. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands because he doesn’t want to disrupt Louis, doesn’t want to accidentally push or pull him in a direction that he hasn’t chosen, because Louis doing as he pleases, taking what he wants from Harry is so fucking hot. Louis sinks down on his knees and looks up at Harry through his eyelashes. Harry’s stops breathing. Louis’ cheekbones look impossibly sharp from this angle and his lips are already rubbed dark pink.

Pulling at the waistband of Harry’s jogging bottoms, Louis smirks up at him, tongue darting out to lick his lips. “The sight of this thing nearly had me drooling all over the sofa,” Louis says and nods towards the living room.

Harry breathes through his nose, trying to calm himself down as Louis pulls down his trousers and pants, making his hard, leaking cock bob between them, brushing against Louis’ scruffy cheek. He gasps, it’s all on the verge of too much, too impossible and too hot _._

Louis’ hands slide over his sides, down over his hips and thighs, still prodding and probably leaving a red mark or two over Harry’s pale skin. With how turned on and on edge Harry is, it doesn’t even hurt, just sends waves of electricity shooting through his veins.

He looks down only to see Louis looking at him, at his cock, with his mouth hanging open and hot breaths ghosting over Harry’s heated skin. Harry has to close his eyes for a second and that’s when Louis closes his fist around the base of Harry’s cock as he trails his wet lips along the length of him.

“Oh _god,_ ” Harry gasps out, probably too loud, but Louis’ mouth is so perfect on him, the wet tip of his cock leaves traces in Louis’ beard and no fantasy could ever beat this. He’s a fucking mess, trembling and choking on thin air as Louis touches him. Rivulets of sweat run down his back and the hair at the nape of his neck is nearly dripping, but Louis takes the tip of his cock into his hot velvet mouth and it’s fucking perfect.

As Louis starts sinking down on his cock, getting half way down, pulling back and then sinking down again, the hand not holding Harry’s cock trails down to Harry’s balls. They are drawn up tight and Louis pulls at them carefully, his skillful hand playing with them as his tongue dips into Harry’s slit and Harry moans loudly. Harry’s hand flies into Louis’ hair on it’s own accord and Harry isn’t sure if it’s to pull him closer or make him stop. It’s so good, so fucking good, but Harry also knows that if he goes beyond a certain point he won’t be able to hold back. And Louis seems to know exactly how to race towards that point in no time at all.

Louis does pull off, his mouth now obscenely wet and swollen as he looks up at Harry, panting slightly. “Everything okay?”

Harry nods and just looks at him, his thumb feeling the wetness he’s smeared over Louis’ cheek as he tries to come up with something to say that isn’t just _fuck me._

A moment later something dangerously teasing flickers in Louis’ eyes and he smiles softly as he leans forwards again. This time he avoids Harry’s pulsing member and tilts his head to reach further down, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of Harry’s balls.

“Oh god,” Harry breathes out again because he really doesn’t know what else to do. His hand is still in Louis’ hair and he’s careful not to pull.

Louis’ tongue laps at him, hot wet heat surrounding him as Louis takes one of his balls into his mouth at the same time as a finger rubs against Harry’s perineum, effectively making Harry’s thighs tremble as he tenses up. Louis sucks carefully at the sensitive skin before moving on to take Harry’s other ball into his mouth. Above him Harry is a mess of moans and whimpers, his thighs trembling with the effort to keep standing. When Louis finally pulls back, Harry lets out a sigh of relief, not because he didn’t enjoy it but because he might pass out from being overheated. He’s never been touched like this, never had someone pull, push, and taste him so thoroughly, like they want every piece of him, and the fact that it’s Louis feels fucking world changing.

Louis wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyelids shiny and almost translucent. He’s so ethereally beautiful. “Could do that all day to be honest,” Louis croaks out, another smile flickering over his lips. “Love how you taste.”

“You’re going to be the end of me,” Harry says, staring at the obscene swelling of Louis’ mouth.

Louis starts kissing his thigh as he talks, “Tell me what you want… want me to fuck you? I’d fuck you so good babe, bet you’d love it.” Harry’s mind blanks out. “Or maybe you want to fuck me? Fuck my arse? That what you fantasized about?”

Harry’s chest grumbles with want and frustration. “I want to touch you,” he says and swiftly decides he’s reached his limit and needs a fucking break. He curls his hand around the back of Louis’ neck to indicate he wants him to stand and Louis rises up carefully, wincing slightly at the way his limbs crack.

“Let’s get you naked,” Harry says and brushes his lips against Louis’.

Louis nods and goes for his own trousers but on second thought Harry wraps a hand around Louis’ wrist.

“Leave the jockstrap on for now, yeah?” he asks and earns a sly grin from Louis.

Harry steps out of the trousers and pants pooling at his ankles and pulls off his socks. When he’s done Louis is standing before him, the white fabric of the jockstrap stretched tight over his hard cock.

“You’re unreal,” Harry says, voice wavering.

Louis’ cheeks pinken as he grins, “So you _do_ like ‘em.” His eyes sparkle and Harry wants him more than anything he’s ever wanted.

He kisses Louis instead of answering, crashing their lips together as he steers them towards the bed. Louis breaks the kiss and clambers onto the mattress to settle against the pillows and Harry follows, leaning over Louis and touching every stretch of skin he can reach. Over Louis’ hairy thighs, up his curvy sides, caressing his belly and scratching at the hair on his chest. Lowering himself so they’re pressed together Harry reaches under Louis to grab at his bum, pushing their hips together as he kisses and nibbles along the column of Louis’ throat. “You’re so fucking… who even wears a jockstrap unless they’re playing sports? God, I’m— you’re driving me fucking crazy, always… you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles against Louis’ skin, his heated face hidden under Louis’ chin.

Louis moans, light and airy and so fucking gorgeous. “God, I’ve… I’ve thought about you…” he pushes his hard on against Harry and his bum clenches in Harry’s hands as Louis’ hands clasp at Harry’s shoulder blades. “Of your fingers, wanted… I’ve thought of you fingering me with those obscene fucking fingers.”

And that… _does_ something to Harry. The fog in his mind doesn’t clear but rather morphs into something palpable, something he can push aside for a moment, gives him something to focus on amidst all the heat and fuzziness. He licks his lips and leans up to look Louis in the eye. “You have lube then?” he asks and Louis lets out another moan as he nods.

“Yeah, eh, drawer…” he says and waves his hand in the direction of the bedside table.

Harry stares another few moments at the gorgeous man beneath him and kisses him again just because he can, before walking on his knees to the edge of the bed and reaching for the lube.

He settles himself between Louis’ thighs and takes in the way Louis’ fringe is plastered to his forehead, the hazy, lidded look of his eyes, and his hands curling into the sheets. His chest is heaving with every breath and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat at Harry’s scrutiny. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry says and can’t even be arsed to be embarrassed about how affected he sounds. Because he is. He’s turned on beyond comprehension with a belly full of butterflies.

Louis pulls him in for another kiss, heated and insistent with the way he clutches to Harry’s biceps and slides his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Harry reaches blindly for the lube he dropped on the bed and clumsily uncaps it with one hand while he keeps kissing Louis. He wants nothing more than to kiss Louis until they’re both completely breathless, but his frustrated grunt at not being able to pour lube onto his own fingers with only one hand, makes Louis giggle against his lips. “Wet your fingers and get in me, won’t ya?”

God, Louis is so fucking blunt with everything he says and it’s so hot, like he knows just what he wants and how to ask for it. Harry wants to give him everything. He sits back on his haunches and pours lube over three fingers, sliding them together to get his fingers completely covered before squirting out an extra dollop on them. He motions for Louis to move. “Raise your knees,” he says and breathes heavily with his mouth open as Louis does just that.

Harry’s cock throbs with need as Louis pulls his legs up by the back of his knees and exposes himself to Harry. _He’s too fucking much_ , Harry thinks as he stares at Louis’ thick hairy thighs pressed against his stomach, his cock and balls still trapped in the jockstrap, exposing only his perineum and arsehole. It’s like Louis doesn’t have time for shyness or awkward fumbling, so he just does whatever he wants without question, and it’s so overwhelming and hot Harry’s heart rabbits in his chest. “Oh god,” he mumbles.

With his clean hand he caresses the back of Louis’ thigh, marveling at the feeling of soft golden brown hair beneath his fingers. Where the hair grows sparser and Louis’ skin is burning hot, Harry plants the palm of his hand as his thumb digs into the flesh, pulling him apart. It wasn’t that long ago that he had Louis like this, but it’s still a head rush. He reaches two of his lubed up fingers to carefully slide along Louis’ crack and Louis closes his eyes with a deep sigh. Harry continues, watching in amazement as his fingers easily slide over the puckered skin, the way Louis’ hole flutters at the touch. Harry bites at his own bottom lip in concentration as he rubs tighter and tighter circles around Louis’ rim and then he holds his breath as he pushes the tip of his middle finger inside.

Louis gasps wetly and keeps his eyes closed, waiting for Harry to keep going. Harry turns his wrist so his finger swirls inside the tight ring of muscle, not pushing any further inside. He keeps at it for another few moments before Louis opens his eyes to glare at him, foot kicking out to Harry’s side. Harry can’t help chuckling quietly, well aware that what he’s doing is probably more for his own enjoyment rather than necessity. “Alright,” he agrees and pushes his finger in further, making Louis fall back against the pillow and whimper. _God_ , he’s such a fucking vision, more beautiful and wondrous than any of the Wonders of the World.

Harry twists and curls his finger, stretching Louis’ tight hole and looking for any sign of discomfort on Louis’ face. When he doesn’t find any he pulls his finger out, pours some more lube on his fingers and pushes inside with two.

With two fingers rubbing carefully over his prostate, Louis’ mouth hangs open and a string of whimpering sounds escape his swollen lips.

“Alright?” Harry asks and gently runs the thumb of his clean hand over Louis’ arse cheek.

Louis nods but doesn’t open his eyes. “Yeah, fuck yeah,” he says and Harry can see how hard he is; a wet patch appears where the fabric stretches over the head of his cock.

Harry keeps going with two fingers until Louis relaxes properly around him and then he adds more lube to his fingers and keeps going for a while longer, scissoring and twisting them inside. The slide is so good, he loves the wet feeling of Louis clenching around his fingers and by the time he’s worked up to three fingers, there’s a wet squelch every time he pulls out. Louis’ thighs are trembling with exertion and when Harry pushes his fingers against his spot, Louis lets go of the grip of his own legs. He wraps them lazily around Harry’s hips so Harry falls forward and catches himself on one arm next to Louis’ head. He keeps rubbing his fingers in tight circles over Louis’ prostate as he leans down to kiss him again. They’re both too focused on what’s happening inside of Louis to make the kiss anything but sloppy and open mouthed.

When Louis’ airy whimpers grow louder and start coming out as deep moans, Harry pulls his fingers out to add even more lube, wanting to keep it as good for Louis as possible. Louis barely seems to take notice, only sighs and then starts moaning again as he pushes his fingers inside. With his face pressed into Louis’ neck, Harry tries out something new, twisting and pushing his fingers inside Louis at a faster pace, jabbing against Louis’ spot with each thrust.

“Oh god, oh my fucking god,” Louis bites out, his thighs clenching around Harry’s hips. “Keep going, just like that, oh god, oh god, oh my _fucking_ god.”

Wild with Louis’ reaction and his own arousal, Harry keeps going even though the muscles in his arm are burning and his fingers are starting to cramp. Louis’ thighs are still tight around him and a moment later Louis’ whole body goes rigid, his heels pushing into Harry’s back and his bum rising up from the mattress as his back arches.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, I’m—fuck, holy _fuuuuuuck_ ,” Louis nearly shouts and his eyes roll back in his head. Harry stills inside him, eyes desperately flying over Louis as his body trembles in waves. Pinpricks of heat travel up Harry’s neck and over his scalp, his eyes tearing up with the intensity of arousal bursting inside of him at the sight.

And then it’s over. Louis’ body goes slack against the mattress and he moans in relief. Harry very carefully pulls his fingers out, Louis wincing slightly at the feeling. Harry feels the need to check if Louis is okay, because he’s still trembling and blinking his glassy eyes open slowly.

“Was that—are you… _fuck_ , Lou,” Harry says and he sort of feels like he was the one who exploded.

“What the fuck did you just do to me?” Louis asks in wonder, his hand coming up swipe the sweat from his forehead.

“Was it good? D’you feel good?” Harry asks, now slightly confused because he clearly just made Louis come in his pants.

At that Louis lets out a bright sharp laugh, his eyes crinkling up as his body starts trembling with laughter rather than exertion. “Are you kidding me? Did you just see that? Holy _shit_ ,” he says and keeps laughing. Harry can’t help but to laugh too, Louis’ chuckles are infectious.

“Yeah, god, you’re, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Harry says and curls his clean hand over Louis’ warm cheek.

“I’m pretty sure you just made me come without like… _coming,_ ” Louis says after he’s managed to calm down enough.

Harry scrunches his nose up in confusion, “What? What do you mean?”

Louis just laughs in disbelief again and pointedly looks down towards his own crotch. “Check for yourself, mate.”

He clumsily pulls back and sits up between Louis’ thighs, his hand traveling down Louis’ torso before sliding over the fabric of Louis’ jockstrap. They’re definitely wet but not… Harry’s eyebrows draw together as he pulls at the waistband of the jockstrap, sliding it down to Louis thighs and… holy shit. He looks back up at Louis who raises an eyebrow and grins wide.

Louis’ cock is still well more than half hard and there’s no come covering it and that’s just… fucking _how._ Also, that’s Louis’ _dick_ and it’s so fucking perfect, thick and flushed dark, wet but not _that_ wet and… _what_?

“You didn’t come?” he asks because he honestly doesn’t know if he should feel affronted by his own inability or like… impressed.

“Sure felt like it, just… you’re insane,” Louis concludes.

“I don’t…” Harry shakes his head to clear it. “What…”

Then Louis does the last thing Harry would expect and starts stroking his own cock, lips curling into a wicked grin. “I swear I could go again.”

At that Harry huffs out a laugh in disbelief and crawls back up over Louis. “And you’re calling me insane, what even _are you?_ ”

“Someone who’s fucking a sex god apparently,” he sniggers and gives Harry a quick peck on the lips.

As he tries to compose himself, becoming aware of his own painfully hard cock, all he can think to say is, “I really want to fuck you now.”

Louis nods and licks his lips. “Yeah, just go slow.”

Harry licks his lips, catching salty perspiration on his tongue and thinks _I can’t believe I get to go slow with you._ He swallows against the rush of emotions he feels blooming in his chest and gives Louis another kiss. “Of course.”

He goes back to the bedside drawer where he saw condoms while getting the lube and settles yet again between Louis’ thighs. Louis is still stroking his own cock and Harry’s mouth waters at the sight. He imagines what it would taste like as he rolls on a condom and lubes himself up. _Another time._ He kisses his way up Louis’ chest, loving the slick feeling of Louis’ skin underneath his lips, his finger tips, against his stomach as they slide together. Grabbing the base of his own cock he drags the tip along Louis’ crack, watching for Louis’ reaction. He doesn’t wince or react with anything but a raspy moan so Harry thinks it’s okay to keep going a little longer. His cock throbs as he drags the head of it over Louis’ rim over and over, teasing himself just as much as he’s teasing Louis.

Louis squirms against the sheets, pushing up against Harry like he’s trying to pull him inside. It’s unbelievably hot and he bends down to catch Louis’ mouth with his. They kiss slowly and sloppily, tongues and lips wet and lazy as Harry finally pushes inside.

Halfway inside he stops himself, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Louis feels so good around him and they’re so close, sharing breaths and looking at each other through heavily lidded eyes. Louis’ hands travel down Harry’s back, fingers sliding through the sweat droplets along his spine, until they settle over Harry’s bum. With his eyes looking intently into Harry’s, he pushes down on Harry’s arse and slowly pulls Harry all the way inside. Their chest heave together and Harry’s not sure which whimpers and moans belong to whom.

“God, you feel good,” Harry says as he starts moving, carefully avoiding Louis’ prostate as he assumes he might be a bit sensitive. He licks along Louis’ jaw, dragging his tongue through the rough scruff and loving the way it makes Louis’ throat bob. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long,” he says and Louis moans.

“ _Fuck,”_ Louis says and lets his head fall to the side, exposing his throat to Harry’s eager mouth.

After a couple of minutes of slow steady thrusts, waiting for both of them to adjust to the feeling, Harry can’t help his hands from drifting to Louis’ thighs. _God_ those thighs. He pulls back and places his hands at the back of Louis’ knees, pushing them to his chest and watching in fascination as the thick muscles move. The hair covering them is matted with sweat and Harry thinks he’ll never forget how bitable the softness on the inside of Louis’ thighs looks. “You’re so fucking hot,” he mumbles as he sits back a bit more, finally able to see his cock sliding inside of Louis' hot, pink, wet hole. If he wasn’t busy fucking him Harry would love nothing more than to taste him again, to wipe his tongue over him and make him quiver.

Louis starts breathing deep but controlled breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, like he’s trying to calm down and stop himself from hyperventilating. “Just give me a sec,” he says and wipes his arm over his forehead.

Harry stops at Louis’ words and then frowns in confusion when Louis protests.

“No, keep going just… ungh,” Louis huffs out and Harry obliges even though he keeps looking at Louis.

“What do you want?” he asks because Louis keeps fidgeting, like he’s not properly satisfied with what they’re doing.

“Just keep going a little longer,” Louis urges him on as he keeps breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

Harry does keep going and wonders if he should change the pace, should tilt his hips or wrap Louis’ legs around his hips again. He’s still trying to figure out what would feel best for Louis when Louis takes one last deep breath before pushing Harry off of him.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he says as Harry lies down on the mattress, waiting to see what Louis wants him to do.

Louis clambers on top of him, a smile spreading over his gorgeous face and he leans down to kiss him quickly before reaching behind himself and grabbing hold of Harry’s cock. And somehow _that’s_ the thing that makes the penny drop for Harry – Louis Tomlinson is going ride him. _Fuck._ This will be over in a matter of nanoseconds unless he pulls himself together.

It’s just… all of Louis is on display: the sweat shining over his chest, curvy waist and hips moving as he slides down on Harry’s cock, and he’s fucking otherworldly, pure fucking magic as he moans low in his throat and leans his head back.

Once he’s got Harry fully inside, he stills for a few moments, looks down at Harry and reaches for Harry’s hands. “You feel really, _really,_ good,” he says and chuckles slightly.

“Good,” Harry breathes out. He’s got a lap full of the man of his dreams. A lap full of the fittest, most brilliant, gorgeous, witty and ridiculously beautiful man the world has ever seen and he’s sort of… busy trying not to fall apart, to not disintegrate and become one with the universe.

Lacing their fingers together, Louis grabs a steady hold of Harry’s hands and starts moving his hips. At first he rolls them slowly in circles, tantalizing and breathtaking as his body curves with the movement. Soon enough though, he starts moving up and down, tilting his hips at a different angle with each slide on Harry’s cock and Harry realises what he’s doing. Harry tilts his pelvis slightly and his instinct turns out to be right, with the next push down on Harry’s cock Louis throws his head back in pleasure, hands squeezing Harry’s as he moans loudly.

“ _Yes,_ fuck yes _._ ” Louis licks his lips before changing his pace. He lifts himself up before resolutely slamming down on Harry again, positively knocking the air out of Harry with the force of it. The head of his cock seems to hit Louis’ spot dead on and for Harry that means a maddening, white hot pressure on his cock.

He groans out loud as he lets himself get emerged in it, lets go of the last bit of self-control and lets his body take over. Deep moans rip from his throat and as he stares wildly at Louis’ body moving on top of him, he starts rambling. Like he can’t stop the words falling from his lips. “God, you’re amazing… so fucking hot… your arse is the best thing I’ve ever felt… god I wish I could… you’d look so good with my come dripping out of you… god, I’ve… you’re…. so fucking beautiful…”

Louis grunts on top of him, one of his hands letting go of Harry’s as he wraps his fingers around his cock, jerking himself off with a tight fist. “Maybe one day… maybe one day you’ll come inside of me,” he grunts out, filling the air between the sounds of flesh slapping together. “Or maybe I’ll come inside you…” Louis continues, voice somehow both deep and airy as he breathes heavily. “Maybe next time I’ll fuck you and have you bounce on my lap with that huge cock of yours, god, you’d look good like that.” Harry is pretty sure they’re not making complete sense right now, that they’ve let logic go in their urgency. But fuck it if he doesn’t get the sentiment, because he sure does. He lets it surge through him, his mind blanking with pleasure. Next time.

“Yes, anything you want, god, I want everything with you,” he blurts out and he’s so fucking delirious with pleasure by now he doesn’t even care how honest he is. “Please, god, I want everything.”

By the end of that sentence Louis’ body seizes up, his thighs trembling as he groans deep and loud, thick stripes of come shooting out over Harry’s chest. His eyes look absolutely wild when he looks down at Harry and he plants his hands in the wetness on Harry’s chest. He keeps snapping his hips as he rubs his own come into Harry’s skin, leaning down to mouth all over him, teeth grazing Harry’s skin. When his teeth bite down on Harry’s nipple, Harry’s balls draw up tight and his cock throbs so hard it’s nearly painful as he comes inside the condom.

-

It takes Harry a few minutes to recover, to pull himself together enough to even move an inch. His eyes are burning with overwhelmed tears and his hands are trembling where they rest at Louis’ waist. Louis is still on top of him, head tucked into the crook of his neck, and Harry idly wonders if he’s actually passed out. Once he becomes clear-headed enough to feel the uncomfortable prickle of needles in his left leg he nudges Louis gently, caressing up his back and rubbing circles into his skin with his thumbs.

“Hey, you alright?” he whispers and earns a grunt in response.

“You fucked my brains out,” Louis says grumpily and Harry chuckles with relief.

“Well, ditto,” he says and plats a kiss on the top of Louis head. “I think we need to shower or we’re gonna get stuck like this.”

Louis stays still and quiet for a few moments before he lets out another groan and ungracefully falls to the side, forcing Harry to quickly grab hold of the condom on his softening cock as he slides out of Louis. He pulls the condom off and ties it up, intending to throw it in the closest trash bin.

He’s just about to ask Louis if he’s got one in the bedroom when he sees Louis looking at him, a big, absolutely breathtaking grin on his face and he’s so gorgeous Harry fears he might tear up again. His face is glistening with perspiration, fringe stuck to his forehead, and lips swollen red and he still manages to look like a fucking angel, like the answer to all the prayers Harry must’ve unknowingly sent.

Louis bites his own bottom lip, eyes crinkling up. “That was fun,” he says and Harry can’t help another burst of laughter from escaping him.

“Yeah, very,” he says and he wants to touch him. Wishes so very badly that this isn’t the last time he gets to see Louis like this, wishes with all his might that this was more than _just_ fun. He takes a deep breath. One thing at a time: shower first, endless pining after.

They stumble into the shower on unsteady legs and as the steam billows around them, Louis leans in and kisses him. The kiss is sweet and slow as his fingers caress down Harry’s chest and he rubs the dried up come from his skin. It’s all so soft and tender as Harry drags soaped up hands down Louis’ back, pulls Louis’ earlobe carefully into his mouth and then watches as Louis’ wet eyelashes fan against his cheeks. Louis keeps his eyes closed throughout most of the shower, lets Harry guide their hands and wash them clean, but Harry can’t stop looking. He can’t stop the flutter in his chest from erupting and as he kisses his way down Louis’ neck and circles his arms around him; he thinks that he might be losing his mind, thinks that maybe he’s completely fucked out and silly with it, but that maybe, he’s quite possibly, falling in love.

After the shower their stomachs are rumbling with hunger, so once Harry has borrowed some fresh clothes, Louis orders them a truckload of food.

“You wanna rewind and watch the end of the game?” Harry asks when the food has arrived and they fall back on the sofa with heavy, sated limbs.

“I barely caught anything of first half either if I’m honest, so I’d rather just rewatch the whole thing tomorrow,” Louis smiles sheepishly and something awfully warm and soft settles in Harry’s belly.

They start watching some documentary on tropical birds instead and they don’t sit cuddled up together or anything as they eat, but Louis’ ankle is thrown over Harry’s knee casually and Harry couldn’t be happier.

When he’s finished eating he puts down the carton of noodles and for maybe the hundredth time that day, tries to act like he’s focused on nothing but the television. As he places his hand over Louis’ bare ankle and lets his thumb caress over the knobby bone, his heart sings. Louis doesn’t pull away or even give him a strange look, just sighs into the backrest with a small smile on his lips.

Harry wants him.

It’s not like it’s news or anything, but for the first time since he first saw those blue eyes he thinks there might be a chance for him. Louis always seemed so… unobtainable. Too much, too good, too fit, and too bloody brilliant for Harry to even touch. Yet here he is, with the most gorgeous ache in his bones and his lips rubbed raw from Louis’ beard. And Louis’ ankle in his lap. Harry feels like the whole world has turned upside down, turned on its head and rearranged itself just so that he could have this, Louis’ skin underneath his fingers.

A comfortable silence sits between them and Harry wonders distractedly when Louis wants him to leave. It’s nearly nine and surely Louis didn’t expect him to stay this long when he asked him to come watch the three o’clock game. Once again Louis brings him out of his thoughts.

“You know you don’t have to like, pretend to like football, to get with me right?” Louis says, his face not giving away a single thing as the words leave his mouth.

The moment the words sink in and start to make sense to Harry, he blushes furiously. He scrambles to come up with something to say, to somehow explain what the fuck he’s been doing over the past three months because if Louis has seen right through him this whole time then… then maybe he should just go for it.

“Well it’s… it’s sort of grown on me to be honest. I quite enjoy it now,” he stumbles out.

“You do?” Louis asks, the corners of his lips now twitching into a smile.

“Yeah I mean…” He takes a deep breath. “You obviously like it and I really like _you,_ so like… it just sort of happened.”

And that’s when the biggest miracle of all happens. Louis blushes beautifully and his smile widens, like he’s pleasantly surprised by Harry’s words. The next thing Harry knows, Louis is cuddling up to him, resting his cheek against Harry’s chest as he mumbles into the fabric of his borrowed shirt.

“Does this mean I have to get into those weird poetry books of yours now?”

**Author's Note:**

> Phew!
> 
> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/168900545808/its-halftime-are-you-ready-to-go-written-by) Thank you!


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